


It's (K)Not Funny

by Nitrobot



Category: Transformers: Robots in Disguise (2015)
Genre: Accidental Knotting, Doggy Style, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-18
Updated: 2016-02-18
Packaged: 2018-05-21 11:40:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6050254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nitrobot/pseuds/Nitrobot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(It totally is though)</p><p>In a spin off of Healthy Jealousy, Strongarm ends up finding out just how much of Steeljaw is canine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's (K)Not Funny

**Author's Note:**

> Someone asked if Steeljaw could make his spike “knot” in my Strongjaw fic and though I didn't include it in that one, I have been tempted to do a spinoff of sorts where Strongarm gets caught off guard and here we are. Plot-wise this takes place somewhere in between the second and third chapters of Healthy Jealousy, but you don't need to read that first.

For reasons that Strongarm swore were purely practical and not at all because of how easy it made reaching her ceiling nodes, she ended up preferring that Steeljaw take her from behind. 

After all, he'd had plenty of chances to kill her, or worse, already. And he wouldn’t risk losing his only source of interface on the planet by doing something stupid like…

Well, like what he must have just done to make him tense against her backstrut after barking with each spurt of transfluid inside her.

"Steeljaw...?" She could barely hear her own voice over the mech's panting vents, or her own cooling fans. Though it was hard to tell with the heat and lube already spilling from her valve, she could still feel the outline of his spike pushing her tingling walls apart, surprisingly still erect after his howling overload.

Steeljaw’s claws migrated from holding her hips in place to brace his servos on either side of her body. “Ah, slight problem, dear..." His tone, though still rough with climax, made him sound like a teenspark just given a detention. "I seem to be... stuck inside you."

" _What?!_ " Strongarm almost forgot to keep quiet, and she had to clamp her mouth shut even as her vocaliser grumbled dangerously.

"Call it a... side effect of having a beast form,” Steeljaw tried to explain, chuckling nervously as he must have imagined the glare she was trying to twist up at him. “My, uh... spike swells up sometimes, and can't pull out until it calms down." 

As he tried to keep her servos down, no doubt expecting a flurry of slaps on his own arms and anywhere else she could reach, Strongarm tried to get herself off of Steeljaw anyway. Her hips swayed and legs leaned forward, yet sure enough his spike refused to budge. The only thing that did seem to move was the transfluid trapped in her valve, swishing against her walls and soaking the node linings. It was as if the entire base had formed a plug at her port, stopping anything except tiny trickles of fluids coming out.

"Are you _serious_?!" She wasn't quite sure who she was asking, maybe Primus himself and his obviously twisted sense of humour, but it was the only way to get her frustration out aside from ploughing the dirt underneath her with her digits as they formed habitual fists.

"Unfortunately,” Steeljaw answered, and she could practically feel him smirking against her neck cables. “Well, in _your_ case it's unfortunate, at least."

She sighed, the hissing vents of air almost making her sink to the ground. “How long does it take to wear off?” she asked as her denta tried to grind themselves into stumps.

“It varies, but usually… at least a breem or two.” Steeljaw trailed off to a mumble, as if hoping she wouldn't hear the verdict.

Even though she'd spent the past breem or two in her exact current position, she wasn't looking forward to it without any overloads to distract her from how quickly the night slipped away. “And what the Pit am I supposed to do if a patrol comes near?” 

“I'd advise that you do your best impression of a boulder,” he suggested.

“What about you?”

“Well, I think I can get away with a passable performance of a tree stump.”

"Unbelievable…” Her helm sagged, cables forcing themselves limp as she tried to settle into a more comfortable position- or as comfortable as possible with several tons of Decepticon on top of her and a swollen spike lodged between her thighs. “At least get off my back, you're practically bending my strut in half."

She thought she heard Steeljaw yip quietly as he conceded. "Sorry.”


End file.
